The Land Down Under
by Makyal
Summary: Michael, a successful pirate, has grown tired with his recent lack of adventure. When he hears rumors of a mythical land below the clouds, he gathers a unique crew to pursue the legend, no matter how ridiculous it may sound. [ON HIATUS]
1. Chapter 1

If you're weak become strong, that's all there is to it. If you don't work for your goals you'll never get there. That is how Michael, the captain of the Poison Rose Pirates, started his rising in the world of pirates. His parents were killed by the Armada, and he was raised by bears in Grizzleheim. He was taught to use large weapons like axes and greatswords, but his passion lied in knives, daggers, rapiers, the smaller things. Of course, he couldn't get by without knowing how to use the heavy stuff in his childhood. Consequently, he built much strength, which when added to his precision training, made him a menace when using knives. His speed of strike rivals the speed of sound.

The purple rose flag he flew became well known, especially among the Armada. He had soared to the top of the Armada's most wanted list, and relished in fighting them. His feathered pirate hat, knifefighter's vest, and dress boots, his casual attire, was known well. For the longest time had been travelling in distant worlds around the Spiral – Monquista, he was quite hated by the monarch there until his mutual friend Gortez won his revolution; Valencia, where he was equally notorious; Cool Ranch, Mooshu, Marleybone, Aquila. Although in recent times he spent all his time in Skull Island, enjoying taking it easy in the pirate paradise. That is, until one day…

* * *

"Hah! Land below the sky? You've drunk too much!" Ratbeard declared.

"I can't drink, I'm underage; you know that!" Michael retorted. "Besides, this is yum, not rum!"

"Yum, rum, what's the difference?"

"One's alcoholic, the other isn't," Bonnie Anne said stalely.

"Who asked for yer opinion?"

"You did, actually," Michael said.

"Bahumbug! That don't make it any less ridiculous!"

"I can't help but agree on that one, captain," Sarah Steele chimed in, "All that's under the skyway is a cloud layer."

"How do you know? It's not like anyone's ever fell through it and came back…"

"How would you even get down there anyway?"

"Well," Michael theorized, "maybe there's some sort of path that leads downward past the cloud layer, and it's just been hidden so no one knows."

"Hmm…"

"I bet'cha fifty thousand gold ye can't find this 'entrance'," Ratbeard challenged.

"All right," Michael accepted. "I'll gather a group of pirates to find it."

"Why not just take us?" Sarah questioned.

"I don't want the Poison Rose Pirates to be inactive."

"And?" Bonnie questioned knowingly.

"…I want to meet new pirates. It'll be boring otherwise."

Bonnie sighed, thinking it was a poor reason to leave behind his "nakama" he had known so long. Of course, it wasn't going to be forever, so what's the harm?

"Ye'll be fighting a lot of dragons in the passage, cap'n!"

"We'll see."

"So, got any ideas for who you're bringin' along?" Bonnie inquired.

"Hmm…"

"Hmm?" everyone in the tavern cellar repeated.

Michael's face fell.

"Him?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because he's strong, reliable, and may be interested."

"Who's _him_?" Fan, who had so far been quiet, asked.

"Kirk. He's a buccaneer who takes pride in never being beaten by a swashbuckler. It's pretty ridiculous if you ask me."

"Why in the Spiral would you adventure with someone like that?"

"Well… it's kinda funny, actually. We first met in the spar chamber. He was spouting something about his class being superior or something like that. I challenged him, and we fought. You weren't with us then."

"You showed him, didn't ya?"

"Well, sort of…"

"Sort of?"

"It came down to just me and him," he said reminiscing, "Man it was intense. He won, but was surprised with how close I was to beating him. Said it was the closest a swashbuckler had come to beating him. We became decent friends after that."

"You speak through battle as always," Fan commented.

"Actually…" Michael said pondering, "I think his name was 'Clever Jordan Kirk,' or something… oh well, I just call him Kirk."

* * *

" _Achoo!"_ he sneezed. "All right, who's talking about me?" he demanded marching around the tavern.

* * *

"Did you hear something from the tavern?" asked Steele.

"Aye, sounds like..." Michael trailed leaving his seat, heading for the hatch of the cellar they were in. He reached up to the handle, muttering one last word knowing the effect it would have.

"Kirk."

"Aha!" Jordan (Kirk) exclaimed pointing at Michael, "It was you!"

Michael rolled his eyes.

"Yeah."

"What's up?"

"I need you to spend an unspecified portion of time on an adventure to somewhere which may or may not exist."

"Sure," Jordan consented paying little heed to most of the statement in his boredom.

"Well then let's go," Michael motioned.

"Already?" Jordan asked aback.

"Got nothin' better to do," Michael said heading for the exit of the Kraken Skull's Tavern.

He stopped at the door, turning around quickly to head back to his crew for a moment. Jordan waited for him.

"If I'm gone longer than a week, I probably found it," he announced, "If I'm not back within a few months I'm either lost or dead."

"That's morbid," said Sarah.

"Bonnie, Fan," Michael called, "In case I don't come back..." he gave a moment of silence. "I pronounce my eternal love for you both!"

"Don't want it." they replied in unison.

"You're so cruel."

* * *

"Shouldn't we have more people for something like this?" Jordan questioned, now relocated to the docks.

"That would make it easy and boring," Michael responded adjusting the ropes of his ship.

"Why are we taking your ship?"

Michael tightened the knot, causing the ropes to make a zipping noise. He looked down at it as if pondering something serious before rising and saying,

"It's more piratey."

"That's not a reason!"

"Reason or not, we're setting sail now."

The sails unfurled and the ship moved forward. Fortunately, the ships of the Spiral were a type of magical and needed little sail one. It took only the captain behind the wheel, as opposed to the additional crew members to effectively pilot a ship.

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"Of course, I've sailed this skyway for at least four years."

"No, I mean where we're going to," Jordan clarified.

"Wherever the wind takes us."

"Seriously?" Jordan asked with a skeptical look on his face.

"Seriously." Michael looked out far, deciding to give their path a bit of randomness. He steered off the windzone, then threw the wheel around in each direction before catching it at a certain point. He did this with his eyes closed, to ensure he didn't just keep going straight.

"Looks like the wind is taking us to Jonah Town."

"Boring."

"Hey look, cutthroats."

"Still boring."

Michael continued sailing straight, and blew his horn of marleybonia and fired the cannons. Soon the enemy ship was weakened, and Michael lowered the boarding planks.

"Shall we 'wreck these noob sharks'?" Michael inquired in his definitive, calm combat tone. He oddly became more composed whenever he entered battle. He was infamous for being nonchalant at what most would consider the worst times to be.

"Sure," Kirk sighed pushing himself to his feet. He drew his giant axe. He plowed over a cutthroat with ease, demonstrating his strength.

Michael sat on the railing above the cabin, fondling a throwing knife in his hand. He sent it darting threw the air, and through a shark's vest, tearing it in half leaving a shallow cut.

"My my, such weak fabric," Michael taunted, "Kind of like you." He hopped of the rail and onto the deck as the shark charged at him.

He held the cutlass high and slammed down, but Michael's glowing black knife stopped it effortlessly.

"You should know better," he slashed with his shadow sword, "than to pick fights you can't win."

"You play too much," Jordan accused as a pile of fallen cutthroats lay beside him. They set sail again without further interruption, if it could be called that. They soon arrived at Jonah Town - not surprising - it wasn't that far anyway.

"I thought we were supposed to be going somewhere that may or may not exist," Jordan complained.

"We are... we just have to figure out how first. Tell you what, I'll go ask around and-"

"I might as well go too."

* * *

The duo arrived at the front of the tavern and Michael pushed open the door. The two walked up to the front, Jordan sitting and Michael propping his head on his hand.

"Hey," he asked the man behind the counter.

"What can I get for ya?"

"Information."

"On what?"

"The land down under."

The bartender gawked a moment.

"Under what?"

"Under the clouds."

His inquiry earned him a fit of laughter and a few mean looks from those present.

"Were ya thrown out of the last tavern fed drinkin' too much?" he said before letting out another burst of laughter.

"Does anyone know about the land under the clouds?!" Michael shouted, triggering the same response after a misleading dramatic silence. The entire tavern had been thrown into an uproar.

Jordan grabbed Michael by the shoulder, dragging him to the door.

"Hey!" Michael protested, but was cut short as he was dragged into the door.

"Dude!"

"What?"

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounded?"

"I was just trying to get leads..."

"You mean you didn't even know what we were going to do to begin with?" he said frustrated.

"Hey," a voice interrupted. The two glanced to their side revealing the source. "I know about it - what they call the land down under." He held a staff with a number of charms attached to it, jingling whenever it moved. He had skull earrings and was wearing a feathered vestment and hat which topped his white hair.

"But we can't talk here..."

"Why not?" Michael questioned.

"Too many people around."

* * *

They spoke in the ship's cabin. It was a well lit area with a large window and some furnishings - chairs, tables, that kind of stuff.

"So you're telling me that you can find this place if we take you to Devilfish Hollow?" Jordan asked stiffly.

"There's an ancient inscription there. I was there before but didn't have the tools to decipher it."

"Tools?" Michael inquired.

"Some books, a pair of magic lenses, the basics."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Jordan barked.

"Kirk," Michael said, "if it's a trap we can handle ourselves. If he's a spy we can get rid of him. If he tries to take the ship we have more. In other words, even if he's lying there's not much he can do that will hinder us."

He looked at the witchdoctor.

"Besides, I think we can trust him. What's your name?"

"Wolf - Wolf Ward."

"Aight then. Guess we set sail now."

Michael left the cabin and headed for the wheel, eager to uncover the land below the clouds. The sails flapped down allowing the wind to fill them with their gusts.

"Next stop, Corsair's Cove."

* * *

The ship halted at the shore and Jordan threw the anchor overboard. With the ship anchored, they all hopped off landing in the beach sand. They entered into the cave.

"We take a left near the entrance," Wolf said. The path he spoke of was unnaturally dark and damp. It was pitch black despite being mere meters away from a light source.

"Here?" Michael questioned.

"Aye."

"It's awful dark," Jordan added.

Wolf closed his eyes, concentrating on the flow of his mojo. With a stamp of his staff on the ground, a light illuminated from his staff, allowing them to see.

"No one uses this path because it's so dark," he said walking. The other two followed.

"Not even the inhabitants of the cave enter here, mostly because of the spiders. They see more clearly in the dark than we do in the day."

"Just spiders?" Michael said forgetting the existence of spiders his size.

They continued to walk as the sound of many legs hitting the ground resonated.

"Hmm,," Wolf said to himself.

They passed under a hoard of bats. The path was covered in stalagmites, making for hindered movement.

"We're getting close," Wolf noted, observing the ruins of an ancient structure which seemed to be part of the cave. The cave transitioned into a path of stone with engravings plastered all over. Their footsteps echoed as they walked down the path.

At the end was a large room lighted by braziers. Wolf strolled down true center toward a large stone with foreign writing of what appeared to be an archaic language.

"Impressive," Michael noted observing the detail on the pillars, braziers, and even the walls and floor of the room itself.

Wolf got to work deciphering the ancient writings, leaving the remaining two unoccupied. Wolf equipped his glasses, the lenses of which reflected in a peculiar manner. He consulted his books, glancing between them and the writings. He flipped through page after page, not finding what he needed. The writing he needed wasn't in there.

"Great," he sighed to himself. "I'm gonna have to copy it, this'll take a while." He pulled out a blank book and pencil.

 _'I should get a rubbing of it.'_

Michael leaned against the wall with his arms crossed while Jordan sat with his axe in hand.

"Did you hear something?" Michael asked.

"Nope."

Wolf removed the necessary items from his pack and got to work. The cave fell silent for a moment, but soon faint scuttling sounds could be heard.

"Hey," Jordan said.

"Yeah?"

"I can't help but notice that on both sides of this room are large holes, just big enough to crawl through."

Michael looked at him.

"Don't you think it's weird?"

"Spider."

"And that big hole in the ceiling... Did you say-"

A large group of spiders had surrounded them.

"Make that plural, spiders."

Jordan stood up and grasped his axe.

"They look hungry," Michael noted, drawing one of his blades.

"Don't just stand there!" Wolf complained, "Keep them off me so I can finish!"

"Roger."

"Who made you the leader?!"

Michael and Jordan stood back to back ready to fight. Multiple spiders launched at them from either side. Michael hid his hand behind his back. Jordan swung his axe with a red trail following, taking out three spiders in a single blow.

"That's three," he smirked.

Michael threw a flurry of knives impaling several spiders that were flying toward him. As one's half dead body soared at him he knocked it to the side with his blade.

"Four."

"Don't get too confident."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

 _'Do those two turn everything into competition?'_ Wolf thought.

They continued their battle with the arachnids. Jordan swung his axe around powerfully, and Michael swiftly carried his blades through the enemy.

"Hey," Jordan poked.

Eight large eyes peered from the cave ceiling hole and a terrible screech was unleashed as an extra large (considering the spiders thus far were near human height anyway) spider leaped to the floor.

"Maybe we upset it?" Michael said.

"Let me handle this," Jordan said pushing his partner to the side, "I'm more than enough for this one."

"Fine, have it your way."

"Come on, you eight-legged freak!"

"Kirk, it's a spider, it's far from a freak for its kind."

"Shut it and do your part already."

"Hmph."

Jordan dragged his axe as he ran at the especially large spider. He leaped into the air and swung his axe down hard. The steel crushed the spider's leg, causing it to flail swung a leg headed straight for the head of Jordan, but he took the hit with confidence in his defense.

Jordan swung high, slicing another leg off. It thrashed about again, landing more than a few hits on the buccaneer. But he didn't seem fazed at all. He stood high and proud.

"Vicious Charge!" he smashed the torso from above. The spider gave it's final struggle before dying.

"All right, I'm done," Wolf announced. He was prepared to make a break for it away from the oversized arachnids, but when he turned around he saw a giant dead spider.

"That was fast."

"I'm also done," Michael said.

"Too fast! What are you two?"

"Level seventy," Jordan stated casually.

"Pirates!" Michael said with enthusiasm.

"Either way, we should leave before any more show up," Wolf said unamused.

* * *

"So, did you find anything useful?"

"I don't know yet," Wolf replied, "I'll need to check with Madame Vadima for a translation since I don't have anything on this writing."

The trio arrived in Avery's Court.

"Wait outside."

"Why?" Michael questioned with a tilt of his head.

"I'd rather have no distractions."

"We're distractions?"

Wolf ignored the comment.

"Just find something to do until I'm done."

"Okay," Michael said.

Wolf entered into the Witchdoctor's Sanctum, and the other two entered their respective class buildings with hopes of a final lesson before parting.


	2. Chapter 2

"What does it say, Madame Vadima?" Wolf asked eagerly.

"Hmm," she said, "From this I can lead you to the land you seek, but first answer this: what is it that you truly seek?"

Wolf stood without word, contemplating his reasons.

* * *

"En garde!"

Lafitte swiftly brought a blade to Michael, and the sound of clashing metal filled the room as a spark ignited between the attacking and defending blades.

"I swear you do this every time, Lafitte."

"It's my job to make sure my darling prodigy is always prepared, isn't it?"

"Well I guess I can't complain when you put it that way."

"What brings you here, my prodigy?"

"You know," he began, "just wanted to see if there was anything left for you to teach me."

"There is much I have yet to teach you, when you are ready."

Of course, because the maximum level hasn't been raised.

"Who's to say I'm not ready?" he challenged for what felt like the hundredth time.

"A'ight then, since you're so persistent, I'll show you a little something."

* * *

Jordan stood at the life fountain in Avery's Court waiting for the other two. He honestly didn't expect to get this far, he figured it was just another one off Michael's schemes to ease his overflowing boredom.

He was soon joined by Wolf, who came carrying a rolled up piece of parchment.

"Well?"

"I got a map. It'll show us where we need to go to get under the clouds."

Jordan seemed less than amused. He was internally surprised that such a fable could actually have ground. They stood there waiting for their third. An entire twenty minutes later Michael showed up showing signs of fatigue, though they were too impatient to notice.

"I'm back," he breathed.

"Good, let's get going," Wolf said.

* * *

Now adrift in Port Regal Skyway aboard Michael's ship, the trio head for the unexplored edge. Wolf began explaining the situation.

"The writing mentioned 'soft spots' in the sky. We think this refers to areas with low density, which causes ships to become unstable and sink below normal level."

As they drew near the edge Wolf began reciting an incantation. A glow of magic illuminated the area, and an outline big enough for a ship appeared.

"Normally we can't bypass this 'invisible wall,' which is actually a strong wind current. However, with this spell we'll be able to get through and find a weak spot in the clouds to break through."

"This all seems rather interesting," Michael began as Jordan stood moodily for unknown reasons, "but why does no one else no about all this - the clouds, the wall?"

"It turns out this wall is actually a spell. It was meant to keep people from drifting away and falling deep into the clouds because they couldn't get back up. Time passed on and the strong magic kept in place, but the story was lost to time."

Michael pondered in a moment of silence. At that moment, a creaking noise could be heard. The noise generated from the ship's sudden movement.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We seem to have hit a weak spot," Wolf explained readying his staff to blast through the clouds, his intention being to fall through.

"Better hold onto something," Jordan warned.

Wolf used his special magics to weaken the cloud layer, allowing them to sink deeper.

"So this is what it feels like when your ship sinks..." Michael said with uncalled for calmness.

"So you've never been sunk?" Jordan said.

"I'm cautious, okay?"

"Guys," Wolf interrupted.

The clouds had parted and revealed a fall so far the bottom could not be seen. Cries were let out as the wind filled more than their sails. The sound of wind filled their ears and the gusts blasted their faces as they literally fell from the sky.

"So how are we going to land?" Michael asked clinging to the ship's railing.

"I thought you had that figured out! Surely you saw this coming?" Wolf shouted so as to be heard over the wind.

"Well, I didn't think that far ahead," he admitted.

"How are you even a captain?" the landlubber said, for Wolf was no pirate.

"Well, if you want my nautical rank, it's admiral, but-"

"Captains are supposed to kno- wait, you're a what?!"

Talk was cut short as a vast surface of blue came into view.

"Brace for impact," Michael added.

"We know!" the other two shouted in unison.

The ship splashed into the sea, sending water everywhere. Droplets fell like rain and wood flew all over. The fierceness of the impact alone shook them all, and tore the ship to pieces. Michael gasped for air as he spread his arms over a piece of the wreckage. He looked around for Wolf and Jordan, but found neither.

He felt his eyelids grow heavy as he continued to scan, spotting three figures.

 _'Wait a minute... Guys?'_

He saw no more, for that second he lost consciousness.

* * *

Michael's eyes fluttered open. The sun was bright and he had to use his hand to shield himself from its rays. He felt beach sand under him as he rose, rubbing his head.

"You awake?" a familiar voice called.

"Bonnie?"

Bonnie walked up and gave him a slap to the back of his head.

"You git," she said.

"How did you..?"

"We stowed away in the cabin, we knew you'd be too busy on your adventure to check there until you needed to."

"Did you honestly expect us to stay back while you had an adventure of your own?" Sarah added.

"I guess I am kinda doomed without my first mate... Wolf, Kirk, are they okay?"

"Hello? I'm here too, you know," Catbeard said.

"We lost them in the shipwreck. We have no idea where they are or if they're still alive..." the mouse said.

"I see.."

"Just ignore me then," Catbeard added.

Michael stared off the shore. He'd normally expect to see clouds, but he instead saw endless blue. Behind him were palms and other island things. He would have trouble becoming accustomed to this strange world. To think it had existed below his this whole time.

"I've never seen so much water in one place before..." he said deciding to overcome the situation at hand before worrying about others.

"Well, we're goin' to need a ship," Bonnie said.

"Right," Michael replied.

He took out a bottled ship from a backpack that can only be assumed to be magical. He unscrewed the cork and held it out.

Nothing.

"That's weird," he said looking over it, assessing its details, "It's not working."

"Maybe try a different one?" Catbeard suggested.

It couldn't hurt. Michael uncorked another ship bottle in hopes of it performing its usual magic.

Still nothing.

"Maybe our ship magic doesn't work here?" Michael suggested putting the bottles back into the apparently well concealed backpack.

"Uh-oh," Sarah noted, "then we don't have a ship to sail."

"Darn..."

"Maybe there's a shipwright in town, we could buy a new one there," Bonnie suggested.

"I should have the money," Michael said hand in chin thinking of his usual 50,000+ gold budget. "Wait, town?"

"We ended up on a pretty good sized island, I spotted a town nearby while ye were dozin'."

"Well, I suppose."

The group walked through the center of town in hopes of finding a shipwright. Oddly enough, not a soul was seen in the street. Windows were boarded up, and doors were barred. The atmosphere produced by the silence was ominous.

"Place looks like it's been raided," Michael said.

"Oh, I was under the impression that the townsfolk just had horrible sense in décor," Catbeard responded.

 _'A captain's hat with a skull and crossed swords... Pirates!"_

They all heard the footsteps behind them, as they all had senses enhanced by combat. Michael eyed behind him.

 _'A kid?'_

The furious boy armed with a mere stick swung at him. He was easily dodged, Michael simply stepped to his side.

"Hey, wha-"

"No one's gonna take any more from here, filthy pirates!"

"Dear!" a woman said grasping the child. "Please forgive my son, don't hurt him, please!"

Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not gonna hurt you, but we need a ship and-"

He was interrupted by an empty can flying at his head.

"Get out! Pirate trash!"

"Leave us alone!"

"I wonder what has them in such a bad mood..." Michael wondered sarcastically.

"I guess _we_ ruined their mood," Sarah said.

They took the uproar as a queue and made their exit whilst avoiding an onslaught of garbage.

"Well," Catbeard complained, "that was rude."

"We can't help it," Bonnie reasoned, "these folks have been oppressed by pirates for probably a while now."

"Well then, if we can't buy a ship, since we're pirates, we'll-" Michael was interrupted by Steele.

"We'll steal one, because we're pirates?"

"I, for one, am not opposed to the idea," Catbeard said.

"I'm sure if we explain ourselves we can come to an understanding," Bonnie proposed being the voice of reason.

"Sounds boring."

"Seconded."

"Well whatever you do, I'm goin' back to the town. It won't help them to have a ship stolen."

Bonnie began walking in the direction of town.

"Coming?" she directed at Sarah who nodded and went with her.

"I have a plan," Michael said ignoring the split up.

"Ooh, I do love a good scheme!"

"Okay," he began grabbing a conveniently located stick as he drew in the sand for emphasis. "You and I will scout different sides of the island and look for a shipyard and eventually meet each other."

Catbeard nodded as Michael spoke.

"If they have a shipyard, it'll be on the shore."

"Don't you mean dock? A shipyard is where ships are made and repaired. It wouldn't make se-"

"If I made a shipyard I'd make it near the docks!" he said, seemingly ignorant of his mistake. "Anyway, one of us will find the shipyard-"

Wouldn't it just be easier to steal a docked ship?"

"Good idea! Then again, I kinda want our own... Anyway, we'll take a ship, and leave gold to pay for it, plus a little extra for doing it without permission."

"Oh? What if the ship happens to be terribly overpriced?"

"Hmm... No tip then!"

"Brilliant!"

Bonnie and Sarah reentered the town, this time without unpleasant creating. Odd, it would make more sense if the townsfolk just ran them out again the moment they stepped foot in town.

"What's going on over there?" Sarah said pointing. A few figures could be seen at a distance. They appeared to be bickering over something.

Bonnie raised her rifle and peered through her scope revealing two armed men confronting an elderly man.

"We have nothing left for you to take!" the man said.

"Stop lyin'!" the pirate threatened raising his sword.

At that moment a burst of electricity struck him and he held himself in pain.

"Who's there?!" his partner yelled.

Two silhouettes emerged at a distance. Their figures dramatically emerged as the distance between them closed. Both figures were feminine. One with a rifle slung over her shoulder, another with a rapier and similarly fashioned knife at her sides.

"So who are you then?" Bonnie said more than asked.

"You, did you hit my partner with that shock thing just now?" he said as said partner brought himself to his feet.

"Yeah, what about it?" she replied nonchalantly, knowing well her superiority to these not-even-amateurs.

"You wench!" he threatened as he pointed his gun at the elderly man he was mugging. "Try anything funny and the old man kicks the bucket!"

"Now that you've drawn your pistol," Steele said, "put your life on the life."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying those things aren't for threatening people."

In an instant Bonnie let out a barrage of sparks from her rifle. The sparks flew and all smacked right into the body of the outmatched pirate. His untrained body just couldn't stand up to her firepower. While his partner was distracted the mouse held her fancy dagger to his throat, and his face turned to one of fear.

"You'd do best to be on your way now."

Being left out of the death hold, he grabbed his partner and scampered away, defeated.

"I'll remember this!"

The two girls walked up to the scared old man, and Bonnie extended a hand. He accepted it and she helped him up.

"I thought I was done for."

It wasn't until just now that they had noticed all the tense eyes peering through all the shuddered windows and whatnot. After their valiant spectacle, however, their tensions were eased and they began exiting their homes to pay respect to the first ever people to stand up to the villains in their town.

"Thank you, we were wrong about you," he continued.

"It's fine," Sarah assured.

"We've been ransacked by that same pirate group for weeks and we have nothing left! The town can't go on like this! Will you please help us?"

The duo sighed in familiarity.

"It's wherever we go, isn't it?" Sarah said.

"I definitely didn't have that sort of thing in mind when I jumped onto the captain's crew. We'll help you get your village back, granted the captain approves."

"Aye, that he will."

BOOM!

A loud explosion was heard and everyone turned to face the sound.

"Ye don't suppose Michael got himself into trouble again?" Bonnie asked despite already knowing the answer.

"Probably."

"Let's go see what it's about then," Bonnie said heading in that direction.


	3. Chapter 3

The shouts of men, firing of guns, and clashing of blades resonated through the air, signaling the heat of battle. Or at least they would be if it were that serious. It wasn't. Catbeard sat on a barrel munching down his beloved pickled herring as one would popcorn at a movie theater. Justifiably so, considering he was watching what he considered true entertainment value.

"Hold still!" pirates shouted repeatedly, each charging at Michael. As the umpteenth assaulter charged swinging his cutlass full force at his head, with a simple tilt of the head it was dodged, unfazed by the breeze it created on his neck, and the pirate stumbled behind his target.

"I'm afraid you won't hit me like that," the corsair replied smugly, having yet to draw his blades. The brute raged. He clutched his sword tightly and rushed at him once more. His charge was reckless and unrefined, something that, as a swashbuckler, Michael couldn't help but find distasteful.

In a flash he stepped into shadow, weaving his path about. The inferior looked around furiously, passing his eyes over every detail of his surroundings. Before he was aware a knife was held at his throat.

Michael sighed from behind him. "You really are an amateur, aren't you?" he lowered his knife as a sign of mercy. Killing left a bad taste in his mouth. "Get goin'," he finished, pushing the pirate away. He scrambled away ashamed to be beaten by a sixteen-year-old, his crewmates following.

At that moment an agitated looking fox and mouse arrived on the scene. Bonnie shook her head. "You just had to pick a fight again, didn't you?"

"I prefer the term 'duel,' but yes. I did."

"You should call it a show, you could go on tour with skills like those!" Catbeard commented.

"Whatever it was it's bound to cause us trouble," Sarah said.

"We're pirates. Isn't it our job to cause trouble?"

Bonnie sighed in defeat, knowing how well her captain used the "because we're pirates" argument.

"Anyway, we have a job to do," Sarah said.

"Really?" Michael said.

"That was fast," Catbeard concurred.

"Does it involve gold?" Michael asked. He was quite the gold hoarder. His basement had masses of gold piles littered around. He thought back to that a moment, almost wondering why he would need any more.

"How about we keep what we find?"

"What do you mean?"

"Some pirates have been giving the townsfolk trouble, we've gotta stop 'em. We can take their loot."

"You mean the pirates I just..."

"Aye."

Michael pat himself on the back, congratulating himself on essentially doing a quest before he accepted it. Although those don't really count...

"I do wonder what kind of captain they have..." Catbeard joked, seeing them as no threat consider the underlings' poor performance against his captain.

At that moment, said captain showed up, likely to avenge his underlings. He didn't look particularly special. Typical pirate captain hat and coat adorned him. A bit of a beard, quite scraggly. His cutlass was drawn and he held it at arm's length, pointing it at the group that stood before him. The sight would have scared the typical civilian, but their pirate group was far from so.

"Which one of ye lubbers-"

"Me," Michael interrupted, purposely at that. An angry fighter, particularly an inexperienced one, gets quite sloppy in his battles, as Michael had noted. Judging by appearances and the attitude of his crew, no doubt influenced by their captain, he figured he would be fairly easy to provoke. 'Brutes,' he thought.

"Cut the crap!" he pointed a pistol, at Michael specifically. Irate, he pulled the trigger. Michael saw it. His combat instincts sparked to a high as he saw this was no spark-thrower. Ignoring that, his thoughts rushed through his mind. Everything he saw, heard, felt, he processed. The projectile rushed through the air and as Michael stepped to his side it zoomed past him, eventually digging itself into the ground. Michael looked back, somewhat astonished by this never-before-seen weaponry. It was like a cannonball loaded inside a gun.

The captain walked forward ready to fight... or at least as ready as he could be with what would surely be a difference in level. The point is he wanted to fight. Michael stopped to grab a small throwing knife from his vest.

"Sorry," he said, "I'm not carrying anything smaller than this right now."

The pirate rushed forward, swinging his sword left and right as Michael dodged each strike, his eyes following the blade. As the final swing came at his side he lifted his blade allowing the sound of clashing steel to resonate with the impact. He slid his knife down his opponent's blade before throwing his arm upward, causing the sword to launch into the air and land with a clang.

"And you call yourselves pirates?" Michael scolded. "You're just a bunch of goons pretending to be pirates!" With that he gave a solid kick to their captain, sending the group retreating to their ship.

* * *

"So do we get a ship now? We drove the goons away," Michael asked the man, who just happened to run a shipyard.

"You have our gratitude," he replied, "I'll have a ship for you-"

"You know," Michael interrupted, "I think a ship with a pool would be nice..."

"Why would we need a pool if we're going to be in the middle of the ocean?" Bonnie said below her breath.

"And a training room would be nice too..."

"Knowing you it'd be more of a deathtrap..." she sighed to herself. Michael loved to fill his training gauntlets with spikes and flamethrowers.

"And an armory would be helpful..."

"Just what are ye planning to make anyway?"

"A kitchen with extra storage space for pickled herring would be nice," Catbeard contributed holding a barrel of his mentioned favorite snack.

"Where did you get that?" Sarah asked.

"I salvaged it."

"So you want an extra fridge?" the carpenter said.

"It was worth a shot," Michael said assuming he had been ignored on purpose due to his ludicrous requests. "We'll take what we can get." The carpenter left to work on their ship. He used a frigate that was already built and made improvements to it, making it sturdier and more durable through various methods. He made a genuine effort to repay the debt he felt he now owed as he hammered away. When he was finished he returned to the pirate group.

"So I've been thinking," Michael began, "our pirate mark isn't very threatening, being only a rose. So how about we change it, so it's a skull and crossbones with a rose?"

"Skull and crossbones, huh?" Sarah replied, It does sound like something pirates should have."

"I already have the flag ready actually," Michael said as he pulled a small pirate flag out of his vestment. He spread it out and displayed it with glee - a skull with crossbones and a purple rose clenched between the skull's teeth. "Pretty piratey, right?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. "Hmm..." he continued, looking at the flag in his hand. "I need some string rope."

"Why do you need that?" Bonnie inquired.

"I have an idea..."

Some rope later Michael stood in front of the town's entrance admiring his handiwork. He looked up at a copy of his crew's flag gracing the town's entrance.

"So what's the point of this?" Bonnie inquired of her captain.

"I'm gonna make this town my territory."

"What?" his crew all replied in unison.

"Our territory, how about that? Anyway, I'm gonna make sure this town is safe from other pirates." He proceeded to the center of the town where the majority of the population was gathered. He found high ground and shouts out.

"Attention everyone!" all heads turned to face him. "You see that flag over there?" he pointed. "From now on this town is under that flag, in other words, this is my territory now!" at first many grew angry but he continued. "I'll become a famous (or rather infamous) pirate, and make this flag well-known to the world! If anyone attacks this town I'll come back here and personally kick their butts! From now on that flag is your protection!" The crowd's mood changed to one of rejoice upon hearing this. Due to their remote location and lack of fighters, they had been a common target for pirates to make an easy coin and easier getaway.

Michael walked away smugly, allowing the townsfolk to rejoice their liberation. It was ironic that they'd end up being protected by the pirates they learned to detest so much.

"You keep doing unnecessary things," Sarah said.

"We could always use it as way to get money out of them."

"Michael!" Bonnie scolded.

"Kidding!" he held his hands up in defense. "Come on, let's go."

"Thanks for the ship!" Michael said from the deck to the carpenter on land.

"You need not thank us, you've done plenty for us already." He had put the pirates' new flag design on the main sail as they had requested. There wasn't anything else to do than set sail now. So after reading a manual they set sail onto the vast open sea.

They drifted farther and farther away from the island until it eventually disappeared from sight. They were now accompanied by the sea breeze and rocking of the waves.

"So," Sarah said leaning on the railing of the ship, next to her ironically shorter-than-she captain, leaving Catbeard at the wheel, "What's next?"

"I was thinking we'd do some pirating to let the world know we're here."

"Sounds like something you'd do."

"I said I'd become a well known pirate, didn't I? I gotta start a ruckus somewhere." Conveniently enough, a blur of an object appeared in the distance. Upon getting closer it was revealed to be a ship with "NAVY" written on the sail like some sort of badge. The navy was, of course, natural enemies of pirates. It's kind of hard to get along with someone who's constantly trying to kill or arrest you.

"We could start by messing with the government," Steele suggested.

"Wait, they don't seem hostile. They're approaching us. Let's see what they want first."

The much larger ship pulled up beside theirs. It seemed to tower over theirs with its overall larger size. After a brief moment. A cloaked figure waltzed to the edge of the ship to peer down at the pirates. Everyone gained a look of shock after seeing the face which looked so intensely at them. The white mask had been burned into their memories - a powerful foe from the past.

"Deacon!" Michael shouted. The quasi-deacon looked at him oddly.

"I know not of this 'Deacon' you speak of. I am Neo-D." He went on with the same cold voice Michael remembered from Deacon.. "If that's a pirate flag it must be new. I haven't seen it before."

"We may be new here but-"

"A word of advice: give up. No pirate can stand against the new government and hope to survive." Michael and Sarah winced at the words "give up." It was something neither of them were fond of. "I'll give you a chance to rethink your lives," he offered unconcerned of the pirates before him. "I'll let you be for now."

With that he left without another word, eyeing the pirate group. He took note of their ship, which was rather large for someone just starting. He turned his head to look back at the pirate flag, taking in all the details. He might want to keep an eye on this group.

"Those were no clockworks..." Steele said. "You saw it too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... Their bodies weren't built like clockworks at all," Michael acknowledged, "They were all human...Just what kind of world is it down here?" He suddenly felt more pressured than before. He had felt something from "Neo-D." It was the feeling people get when facing something bigger than they are. There aren't just weak foes down here.


	4. Chapter 4

"How much longer?" Michael asked Catbeard, who was steering the ship. While Michael was the captain, in terms of piloting experience his subordinate was beyond him, hence why he piloted the ship. He was better at maps and the like.

"Probably... an hour or two."

"An hour? That's FOREVER!" he complained.

"Not if you're actually _doing_ something."

"I guess you're right," Michael sighed, "Guess I'll have to find something to do." He said this but still didn't move from his spot. "...Got anything to do?"

"Hmm..." the feline pondered glancing upward while raising a paw to his chin while keeping the other steady on the wheel, "I don't have anything fun to do at the moment, but perhaps Bonnie or Sarah may?" he proposed... "...Huh?" He said bringing his glance back down. The captain had already left him in search of entertainment. Catbeard sighed and returned to his arguably stale task.

"Steele?" Michael called as he walked into the ship's kitchen and dining room, "Steele!"

"What is it?" the mouse in question answered as she munched on an orange.

"Let's spar!" he said enthusiastically.

"Its got nothin' better to do," she said finishing her fruit as she stood up. "You're on!" The pair walked outside on to the deck of the ship, allowing the fresh sea air to hit their nostrils.

"A little different than the air back in Skull Island, isn't it?" Michael commented.

"You got that right."

They took their positions across from each other and readied their weapons, each prepared for a tough battle. They both knew the other could hit hard. That's what swashbucklers do. Sarah removed a gold coin from her pocket and tossed it into the air. It fell down and down...

 _Tick_

That was the signal for the beginning of their practice battle.

"I'm gonna try something new," Michael said leaping into the air. He planted his feet to the mast before launching off it. During the jump he turned on his side and began spinning as his blades came down threatening to slice anything in its path. His pony tail flickered in the air with his movements and he got two good spins in before smashing his blades down.

Sarah used both blades as she blocked the attack, resulting in the complete stop in Michael's rotation. With a clash his sword met hers, and their gazes met.

"I was hoping to get a bit more rotation," he said as he brought his legs down, using his sparring partner's blades to backflip up and away.

"You sure you didn't get yourself too dizzy?" she replied passively.

"I'm sure," he said back, "...Probably."

"Just like you, always doing reckless things," she said as she charged at him, thrusting her blade through the air. The point ran straight into the broad edge of Michael's shady sword as he supported his block by crossing his knife behind it.

"It'd be boring if I did everything without risk," Michael said getting a fair distance between him and his partner with a leap.

"Then there'd be no conflict."

"Conflict makes a story."

"And the story is proof of our existence."

"I've taught you well," Michael said with a tinge of sarcasm. He knew well he was a mere catalyst for his crew's growth.

"Har har," she said readying her blade once more. "You know as well as I do that the only thing you're superior in being able to take hits."

"What can I say? I was raised by bears." Michael readied his weapon as well. "While true my ability to take damage is nearly double yours, your base damage is higher than mine, which puts us at equal. But when you consider my five Assassin's Strikes-"

"Yeah, I got it, if you really tried you could end me in an instant. Now let's get on with it!" she exclaimed running toward her opponent.

A swift stab ensued countered by a limber dodge. Michael followed this up with a swing of his sword aimed at the neck. He paused as the blade neared his crew mate's neck. He rolled his eyes down and saw a knife dangerously close to his stomach.

"Well played, my dear, well played. Although to be honest decapitation I'd think is more lethal than disembowelment."

They each eased up and ended their spar with a voluntary crossing of blades as part of their crew tradition. They each smiled, giving a one another a sense of satisfaction from a fun duel. Sarah elsewhere while Michael journeyed to one of the cabins, curious as to what Bonnie was up to.

Bonnie was pondering this new world amongst other things. Many questions filled her mind. Was her spark thrower useless here? Who was this "Neo D?" How would they get back to Skull Island? Why did Michael's last name make no sense? Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the cabin door. She spoke affirmation and the door opened to reveal her captain standing in the doorway. He wore his bored yet complacent face as usual.

"Yo!" he spoke with trademark casualness.

"Captain," Bonnie began, preparing to voice her concerns.

"Can I have a hug?"

"No," she replied flatly.

"Come on, I bet your fur is super soft!"

Bonnie sighed, and Michael proceeded to play with her tail despite her initial refusal. Was this really the man she decided to follow?

"Cap'n, I got some things on me mind."

"Speak freely," he said appearing to show no heed as he continued to indulge himself with the fox's furry tail. Bonnie knew, however, that he was paying attention.

"I think we need to start thinkin' about things."

"Like?"

"Like the navy, what we're going to do here, and how we're going to get back to Skull Island."

"What about the navy?"

"Don't ya think it's strange? That guy was an exact copy of Deacon."

"That is indeed strange," Michael said now seated across from Bonnie.

"Yeah, ya don't suppose Kane's golden brain found its way here, do you?"

"It's definitely a possibility."

"You know how much trouble it can mean if he's down here..."

"Yeah that guy's a huge pain, especially with his generals around."

"What're ye gonna do now that we've actually made it down here?"

Michael seemed generally puzzled. He had said he would do some pirating to cause a ruckus, but now that he was considering everything seriously, he wasn't so sure. The possibility of Kane's presence complicated everything. If Kane really were there, he couldn't move recklessly without meeting major repercussion. He knew that more than anyone. The mixture of fear, tension, excitement, and a thousand other feelings were remembered as he recalled the showdown at The Machine.

"Can I play with madness?"

There was a pause, and momentary silence overtook the room, save for the waves they glided over.

"Haven't we been doing tha the whole time?"

"Yeah... you're right."

* * *

They arrived at port to a fairly-sized town, and Michael was in high spirits. Clouds covered the sky and by the looks of it, it might rain soon. This didn't get him down though. What's a little rain going to do, right?

"Bonnie, can you go find us some supplies? You know, food and stuff."

"Will do," she replied. At the mention of food Catbeard's mind drifted to pickled herring. He insisted on going with her to "help," but everyone knew his true motives.

"We'll meet up at the ship," Michael added before seeing the two off. "So, Steele, wanna go look for some steel?" Michael joked.

"Puns are terrible, captain."

"Couldn't help myself," he said as they began walking.

"That does sound fun though. Maybe you'll find something better than those things you've been using forever."

"Like you're one to talk. You've been using the same pair of blades since we were in Mooshu!"

"Well," she said struggling to find a proper response.

"Although I will say I'm impressed, you make a pair of blades last longer than I do."

"Thanks I guess."

"Oh hey, look!" Michael said pointing among the huge wall made of buildings. There was a sign in the shape of a sword hanging above one in particular. He figured it was a weapon shop and rushed toward it as his first mate followed.

He flung the door open and marveled at all the arrays and displays of fine blades. Rapiers, broadswords, katana, daggers, claymores - they had all of them, much to Michael's delight. As a weapon enthusiast, he found himself quite enjoying himself as he instantly began analyzing just about every blade in the shop, paying special attention to daggers. While he did enjoy browsing the wares, he found nothing came quite up to par with his Blades of Shade.

Sarah also browsed many of the rapiers and daggers, seeing if she could find one to top her current set. However, she found her current set felt more natural than anything she found. She didn't particularly feel like breaking in a pair of new blades.

* * *

"Is this the ship?" a large, athorative figure inquired firmly.

"Yes, sir Ekoor."

"This does indeed appear to be a pirate ship. Order a squadron to keep watch over it. I want those pirates apprehended on the moment you see them."

* * *

As Michael reached for a claymore to inspect it, a cloaked figure grabbed it, pulling it out of his reach and looking over it for himself.

"I think I had that first..." Michael said. The man in the hooded cloak, about his height, dropped the weapon and his jaw was visibly hanging, despite the rest of his face being hidden. He grabbed Michael, leading him to the door. "Hey, wait a minute!" Michael protested, but the figure refused to release him. He dragged Michael out of the building and into a nearby alley. It was now raining, and the gloomy afternoon storm clouds blocked much of the sun's light, resulting in moody lighting.

"I don't know who you are, but-" he cut his sentence short as his abductor removed his hood, allowing his face to be shown. "Kirk?" he questioned. Surely enough, it was the same Kirk he knew, the one and only.

"What do you think you're doing walking around here like that?!" he said with uncharacteristic hostility. "This place is dangerous!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a pirate and all, I kno-"

"No, you don't know!" he said pushing his old friend against the wall, now grabbing him by the collar. "This town, it's not safe for us...the navy's here, in force." Michael chose to listen in silence rather than retort. Kirk's grip loosened. "You haven't seen their power. These guys have to be even stronger than the Armada."

Michael's eyes widened, then narrowed at this revelation. He started to feel it again. He felt the mixture of a hundred different emotions as he suddenly felt his back was against the wall, literally in this case. Kirk wasn't one to spook easily, which meant that what he was saying was true. Were they strong enough to break Kirk?

"You can't just go strutting around in that outfit, they're probably onto you already."

Sounds of clattering armor and weapons could be heard outside the alley. Incoherent shouting followed.

"I'm looking for a way back to Skull Island. I suggest you do the same after you get out of here," Kirk turned and walked away adding one more thing. "I'm going to look for Wolf, he'll know how to get back to Skull Island." With that he disappeared in the darkness, leaving Michael with many more questions.

Michael met up with Sarah immediately after and began their traversal back to the docks, and ultimately their ship. Michael was unusually pensive. Sarah didn't seem to be surprised. While it wasn't often she saw him like that, he had seen it often enough to usually have some idea as to what was going on, but this time she didn't.

"Why the somber attitude?" she inquired.

"I met Kirk," he replied after a pause.

"Really? What'd he say?"

"...He said he'd look for a way back to Skull Island, and that we should do the same."

"Can't argue with that logic," Sarah replied pulling her plumed hat further over her face in attempt to shield her eyes from pelting raindrops.

"Oh well, let's get back to the ship."


	5. Chapter 5

"Help me load this up," Bonnie said, "You could do somethin' other than just stan' there ya know. She was, of course referring to her companion Catbeard who was preoccupied with munching on some fresh pickled herring he had picked up in town.

"Oh, all right," he said, reluctant to divide his attention from savoring his snack. He assisted with loading a fairly large supply of crates and barrels onto the ship.

They probably had enough food for two whole months, an amount that came at quite the price, not that it was a prolem for them. The captain did have deep pockets, after all. Coughing up a few thousand gold was nothing special for their accomplished group.

They finished storing all their provisions and waited for Michael and Sarah to return. However, they were soon met with I'll company. Bonnie espied a group of uniformed troops approaching the ship. She had a feeling they didn't just want to say "hi."

"Catbeard," she said, eliciting a "Hmm?" from the feline, "Looks like we got company."

* * *

"Hold up," Michael said reaching his hand into his coat. His eyes darted around his surroundings, noting every nick and cranny in the vicinity. Grabbed his throwing knives from inside his jacket, holding them between his fingers as a ninja would use shuriken (he was familiar with ninja techniques after all). He jumped up and threw his knives in all directions. As they hit their marks audible groans of pain could be heard, signaling his hypothesis was correct.

"Show yourselves!" Sarah demanded, catching on quickly. Five soldiers resembling Armada fusiliers revealed themselves and pointed their muskets.

"Steele!"

"Right!"

Using their refined reflexes they leaped straight upward, allowing the enemy to shoot at each other. Surrounding someone isn't always the best strategy, is it? As they came down the duo gave two of them a last stab for good measure. From the feeling of the stab, they were definitely not fighting clockworks. The blood that soaked their uniforms was proof.

"Heh, dangerous," Michael said mockingly, thinking of Kirk's warning. Were these the mighty soldiers he had feared so much?

"Captain," Sarah said pointing. A large figure was walking toward them slowly - menacingly. He stood taller then either of them and was adorned in heavy armor and a masquerade mask. He was also armed with a greatsword. Could it be... but without the shield..?

"You're under arrest, pirates." The figure said. "I, Ekoor, shall purge you!"

"Now they're just being unoriginal," Michael said under his breath. He steeled himself and charged at the figure. Michael jumped up holding his black blades above his head and noticed Ekoor had not yet moved. Did he want to get hit?

Michael swung his blades down as if attacking a titan. However, a large left hand knocked the wind out of him before he made contact. His eyes widened as he felt the iron-like fist dealt a blow as he had never felt before. He was blown back into the wall of a nearby building and Sarah swore she heard something crack. He hit it hard enough for his hair to come undone as it now drooped over his face.

Michael felt pain shoot through his body and he struggled to catch his breath. He struggled to stand and used the wall as support. The struggle was great. His muscles felt as if they were on fire. He brought his hand to his mouth and coughed up red. A pain he wasn't used to built up in his chest at the same time.

Michael rose once more and charged again, this time attempting an Assassin's Strike. However, Ekoor saw it coming and blocked it with his massive blade and staggered the pirate. How he could wield something so colossal with such ease was beyond Michael. The general then proceeded to swing his claymore swiftly into his enemy's lower leg. Michael let out a pained yell and his face contorted. Being cut to the bone hurt like nothing he had felt before. The blade was ripped out, causing the pirate captain's blood to spill onto the concrete. Ekoor began marching toward Sarah.

"Michael!" Sarah shouted, momentarily forgetting Ekoor. When she did turn her attention back she saw a massive greatsword blade swinging straight at her. She lacked time to respond but to her luck, her captain somehow managed to in that brief moment gather enough strength to come to her aid. He held the larger of his blades in his hand, supporting the blade with his other hand as the massive weight pushed down on him. Blood still running down from his mouth, he used all his might to block his adversary's blow.

"Give up," Ekoor said in a deep, monotone voice.

The pressure was great and Michael's body was failing him. Cracks began to spread across his blade as the rain pelted his surroundings. He felt so powerless. He wasn't sure whether to be overjoyed he found an opponent stronger than he was or to be filled with anguish and sorrow at his lack of competence.

Just as his body failed Sarah snatched out from under Ekoor's blade. It crashed into the ground and left a permanent scar on the concrete. Sarah ran carrying her captain, trying desperately to escape Ekoor. Ekoor, however, did not pursue them, to which she was relieved.

Ekoor pulled out his communicator and began speaking. "I have two pirates to add to the wanted list..."

Sarah had never run faster in all her life. Well, except maybe at Bleachhead. She carried her unconscious captain in her arms and felt sympathetic toward him. He had pushed himself to his limit in such a short amount of time, at one point for her sake. He was beaten so badly she wasn't sure if his spirit would be intact.

Upon reaching the ship the sight of unconscious bodies littered across the dock, not to mention a very frightened passerby, greeted her. She made her way onto the ship and used her authority as first mate to order their departure, despite rank not usually having much weight in their crew. Bonnie and Catbeard, alarmed at the sight of the broken, beat, and scarred captain, bombarded the mouse with questions. Sarah wrapped up the captain the best she knew how to and set him down into his bed before answering any questions.

"What the in the world happened to the captain?" Catbeard inquired. Sarah gave a moment of silence before answering.

"We met with one of the generals of the navy," she said finally.

"But how could he ha' done this to the captain?" Bonnie questioned. The goons they fought weren't very challenging, but even the general shouldn't have been that strong, could he?

Sarah bowed her head in reverence for her defeated captain.

"I'll be fine," Michael said apparently now awake. "I just need some time to rest is all."

"A doctor is what you need, cap'n," Bonnie said. "Luckily for you, the cat and me-"

"Fabulous cat," Catbeard corrected teasingly.

"Me and the fat cat got our hands on a map of the 'seas' here."

"Really?" Michael sparkled as he rose before clutching his side in pain, forcing him to lie down once more.

"Aye. Apparently there's supposed to be an island town known for its doc. It's apparently also a good place to pick up information. We might find somethin' to point us in the right direction. I can only guess how few rumors there must be of a land in the sky."

"Yeah," Michael chuckled.

The white-haired boy known as Wolf had washed up on an island once inhabited by some tribe, water moles he presumed. He presumed because there was no longer anyone on the island. The place looked ransacked. He spotted a cave, and entered into it. He lit up his staff with magic, and he noticed the paintings on the wall which depicted water moles performing some kind of ritual around a glowing rock.

He continued studying the ancient paintings and came across one which appeared to depict a land in the sky - perfect. He couldn't believe his luck. There must be some kind of clue here, one that would reveal to him the secret of the connection between the earth and sky - that there was more to the spiral than people already knew.

He continued through the cave passage until he came to a chamber, similar but more elaborate than the one he and the two pirates had encountered in Devilfish Hollow in Skull Island. Could they be connected somehow? He pulled out his notebook and began writing down notes after drying the pages with his magic.

At the center of the room was a pedestal surrounded by paintings, but more noticeable were the signs of pillaging. Ancient pottery had been smashed apart and grimy footprints of soldiers littered the chamber. He noticed writing near the pedestal and consulted his translation notes from the previous cave.

After some tedious translation and page flipping his eyes widened as he read the final translation. His eyes darted over his paper as he reread everything to ensure that he had read that correctly. The description of the item matched perfectly.

"It was... A windstone?"

* * *

"Does this match the appearance of the two rogues?"

"Yes, it does," Ekoor answered. The legal process for placing bounties was always so tedious. It would take at least a week for them to actually go into effect.

"Another bunch of pirates not worth your time, I presume?"

"That is none of your concern, Nocaed, but if you must know, the troops at my disposal at the time were too incompetent to follow through with anything even if I did make an arrest," Ekoor responded.

"I prefer my codename 'Neo-D'."

"You'll find I care not for your preferences."

"So I've heard, about a hundred times," Nocaed replied retaining his calm demeanor. Ekoor held the newly printed wanted posters in his hand. Nocaed noticed this and recounted his encounter with the familiar faces. "So they really did go cause trouble..."

"What was that?"

"So what did those two outlaws do to get a bounty?"

"They were suspected of being pirates. My men observed them and they forced us to attack."

"So no more than mere ruffians, I presume?"

"Not quite. They knew what they were doing. If they didn't they couldn't have taken out my men."

"Yet still not quite enough for you to sully your hands with?"

"Not quite."

"...So what's the bounty?"

* * *

Kirk was lurking around the docks when his situation began settling in on him. He was trying to get to a land in the sky, a story no one would likely believe. He had no ship, and it was unlikely he would be able to remain anonymous for very long. He would eventually run into the navy. Conflict was inevitable. He would need to step up his game if he were to face the Navy head on.

"First I need a ship."

He searched the town for a shipyard. He needed boat, and he needed it badly. The entire geography of the general area was islands anyway. There probably wasn't a continent for a couple thousand miles. He scoured the shipyard dock for a ship most tailored to his needs - small enough to be operated by one person, but big enough for comfort - not like that deathtrap of a "ship" he received from Avery in his early pirating days. Regardless, he had the gold to pay for just about whatever he wanted.

He decided on skiff. The skiff didn't have any distinctive qualities in particular, which was good considering he didn't really want the navy to be on his back constantly. He figured Michael would do just the opposite though.

Now that he thought of it, this area was very much like Avernus, where a drake could be anywhere from level thirty to level sixty. Except the land down under was more akin to levels forty through ninety. It was quite the gap in level.


End file.
